


Breezeblocks

by teacupps



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alexis | Quackity-centric, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Ballroom Dancing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Internal Conflict, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Rated for violence in later chapters, Sam is Quackity's dad, Waltzing, Wedding, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, maybe no angst IDK, minor religious imagery, no beta we die like l'manberg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupps/pseuds/teacupps
Summary: Feelings gripped onto him like a vine. His own heart was holding him down like a cinderblock as he gasped for air, water engulfing his lungs.--Marriage wasn't about love, it was about union. About building alliances.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Sam | Awesamdude, Alexis | Quackity/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 18
Kudos: 132





	Breezeblocks

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very anxious about posting but here we are! I've been working on this fic, planning out each chapter for about a month now. I've been doing a lot of research on Medieval England and the dynamic between these two really got me thinking. I also took a little bit of inspiration from the song 'Breezeblocks' by Alt-J, which will become more prominent in later chapters :]  
> I'm pretty convinced no one's gonna see this, but I hope you enjoy! :D

Pale moonlight illuminated the pristine ballroom. Couples glided across the floor to the music, played by a large, acoustic orchestra. On any other day Quackity would’ve wanted to join in, being perfectly accustomed to events like these. But today Quackity was too anxious to get up. So instead, he watched from the side, sitting on a bench and humming along. A crisp breeze sent a shiver flickering across his skin. Quackity shuddered.

Faces were cheerful and incandescent. As far as he could tell, everyone was enjoying the party. He was one of the few people not dancing. Luckily he wasn’t the only person sitting, either, but a pang of guilt still poked at Quackity’s chest.

Quackity heaved a sigh and slumped into the back of the bench. A crystal glass balanced lazily between his fingers in one hand, the stalk of some plant he had picked up in the other. He idly stirred it for a moment, wine sloshing around the cup. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip.

It was a new flavor to him; oaky and dry. The bitterness of the liquid lingered in his mouth. He smacked his lips and set the cup next to him, careful not to spill anything. He had decided wine wasn’t his thing. An ale would’ve been more than pleasant, but it wouldn't have been lavish enough for a party with so many rich guests. Everything had to be perfect.

His attention shifted to his dad, conversing with some tall man in the back of the hall, draped in his brilliant emerald tunic. It wasn’t difficult to spot him, Quackity just really didn’t want to catch his father’s attention.

His father, Sam, was the king. After Quackity’s mother died, refusing to remarry, Sam was left to raise Quackity on his own. He never had any siblings, leaving Sam free to spoil him with whatever gifts he pleased. Quackity remembered one time when he and Wilbur had snuck out to a pub. He was around seven, when an eleven year old Wilbur tried to get him his first beer. It didn’t end well. The two were kicked from the pub until Sam came and bailed them out. He bought them a small ale each to let Quackity taste alcohol for the first time.

He recognized the other man as Phil Watson, who adorned a short pine overcoat and a mop of blonde hair. Sam and Phil got together often to talk about affairs between city-states and things of the sort. Quackity never participated in those conversations, always finding them boring.

Suddenly, he felt large hands ghost over his shoulders. He stiffened in his seat.

“Quackity, what are you doing sitting here all alone?”

Immediately he recognized the voice, to his dismay. Quackity dropped his shoulders. “I don’t feel like talking right now, Technoblade,” he muttered, leaning forward.

Quackity shot a glance over at Techno, who swung his legs over the bench and was now sitting next to him. Techno was dressed similarly to Phil, his sleeves baggy and cuffed around the edges. His pink hair was pulled back in a ponytail. A knowing smile shadowed his face.

“What, nervous for tomorrow?” Techno asked.

Techno’s voice sent a flush of chills down his skin, twisting an anxious knot in his stomach. He hated that. It was so low and so toneless, never conveying any emotion. His deep chuckle would ring like church bells in his ears. It was stupid. 

“No, I-- shut up. Just shut up.” Quackity sputtered. Techno raised his eyebrows and looked away.

With a relieved sigh, he coerced himself to calm down and ignore Techno. Obviously he was just trying to get attention, so Quackity decided not to cave in. He diverted his focus back to the happy couples.

Quackity tried to settle on one in particular, but his head was spinning. Thoughts spun through his head like a water wheel. It was dizzying.

Finally he was able to pick one pair to observe. He watched as they glided across the floor, graceful and jocular. Quackity found it almost surreal. But he was also aware of every little flaw, the way some of the leads would pull too hard, or weren’t confident enough. 

“We could do better, huh?” The breathy words rolled off Quackity’s tongue without a second thought.

Fucking idiot, a voice in the back of his head scolded him. Think before you say dumb shit like that next time. Fucking idiot.

Another chuckle came from Techno, thinly veiled with nervousness. “You wanna try?”

Quackity looked over his shoulder at him. Techno had taken Quackity’s wine glass and had it gripped firmly between his fingers. Quackity’s eyes widened. “I mean, not really, why would I--”

His stammering was interrupted as Techno grabbed his hand and jerked him up to his feet. Quackity let out a yelp and stumbled back. Techno jerked forward awkwardly, trying to keep him from falling, and shoved his hands out. Wine splashed from the cup onto Quackity’s blouse, the cup hitting the floor with a crack.

“Oops,” Techno murmured.

“What the fuck! Why would you--how dare you!” Quackity exclaimed, looking down. The sticky liquid dripped from his chin onto his collarbone, a large red stain plastered on the front of his blouse. Quackity groaned in a dramatized exasperation. 

“Psh, you’re overreacting. No one’s gonna see,” Techno quipped, rolling his eyes. He bent down and reached out a hand to help Quackity up.

“I can help myself, thanks,” he huffed.

Techno shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Quackity dug his hands into the ground, pushing himself back to his feet. A small rush of lightheadedness had returned and his knees buckled.

Techno raised an eyebrow, lips pressed together nervously. He placed a hand on Quackity’s shoulder, helping him balance. “So...uh,” Techno began hesitantly. “About that dance?” 

It felt like it was supposed to be a joke, but Quackity couldn’t really tell. “Er--,” he faltered, his gaze scattering around the patio. His wine glass had been cast into the dirt, a large crack down the center. Moonlight shone through the trees and dappled itself across the ground. Light glimmered off of the violet liquid in Quackity’s cup as it oozed into the dirt. 

As much as he disliked Techno, something was so alluring about dancing with him here. And they’d have to get along eventually, right?

Fuck it, he decided to play along. One dance wouldn’t hurt. “I mean, if you want to.” 

Hesitantly, Techno took him by the hand and gently pulled him into a spin. Dizziness flushed through his head, vision blurring for a moment before Techno pulled him back in. All Quackity could see was his haunting smile. Techno moved his hand down, bracing Quackity’s waist. He tensed. “This isn’t so bad, heh?”

Quackity choked on a startled response. He instead grabbed Techno’s free hand, cupping it in his own.

Techno invited him to pick up speed with the tempo. He didn’t pull too hard, but his lead wasn’t subtle either. Quackity’s heart fluttered in his throat. The orchestra kept a smooth, rich flow like melted butter.

Techno went to dip Quackity down at the height of the music. His grip was firm on his waist. Tension trickled up Quackity’s spine where Techno touched him.

Quackity looked up at the man above him, breaths short and ragged. Strands of his carnation hair fell out of his ponytail and clung to his forehead. His blue eyes were glistening sapphires, beautiful and dangerous. Quackity’s stomach flipped with butterflies fluttering about.

For a moment he and Techno were the only people there, the only ones that mattered.

Techno’s taunting smile burned down at him.

An unbidden pink, warm and nervous, dripped into Quackity’s cheeks. In a febrile panic Quackity clamped his heel down on Techno’s foot. Techno barely reacted. In one swift motion Quackity was prompted back up. Techno’s lips brushed against his ear. His short breaths teased goosebumps from his skin. 

“Isn’t it peculiar? That everyone’s looking at us now?” He mused, nerves seeping into his usually deadpan voice.

Quackity glanced around, letting out a short breath of relief. “Jesus, you’re so self absorbed, Technoblade,” Quackity retorted, meeting Techno’s eyes with a flare of humor. “No one cares about us.” 

“Agree to disagree.” 

Quackity didn’t want to think about whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.

The melody had begun to decelerate with long, slow tones that dissipated much of the tension. Techno brought their pace down, his grip loose around Quackity’s hands.

Quackity caught his dad’s eye from the corner of the ballroom. Sam had a big, stupid grin plastered all over his face. He groaned inwardly. 

By then the music had almost completely settled. Only a few people were left, dispersed around the ballroom in pairs. Techno seemed to have noticed as well.

“Here--let’s go get a drink or something,” Techno suggested, pulling away. Quackity yanked his hands into place at his sides. “I’m getting tired anyways.”

He didn’t know how else to respond, offering Techno a shrug. Techno led him over to a counter, where a pale faced brunette stood, wiping down a splotchy counter. “Could we get some more wine?” Techno prompted, drumming his fingers on the counter.

“Yeah--let me check,” he replied hastily, rushing off to the back. 

For a moment everything was painfully quiet. Quackity’s eyelids were heavy. It must’ve been pretty late. Hardly anyone was left in the ballroom. Servants had rushed to the floor with barrels of water.

“So, you’re excited for tomorrow then, Quackity?” Techno asked, breaking the silence. 

The sudden spark in conversation was startling. “What do you--of course not!” He sputtered. The back of his throat crackled with nervousness. 

Techno slouched against the wall and shrugged. “Yeah. Me neither,” he admitted. “It’s for the best though.” 

The bartender returned, holding two cups of dark purple wine. “Thanks,” Techno nodded, taking one glass in each hand. He took a sip and let out a sigh.

Quackity furrowed his eyebrows. “That-- okay Technoblade.”

Techno opened his mouth as if to speak. A sudden call from the other side of the room; “Quackity come ‘ere! Big day tomorrow and you have to be up early!” from across the room cut him off.

“I’m coming, Dad! Jesus-” Quackity groaned. He turned to Techno for a moment, reaching his hand out awkwardly. Techno grabbed him firmly by the wrist and shook it. Fucking hell. “I’ll uh-- see you tomorrow morning, I guess.”

“See you tomorrow,” Techno chuckled.

\--

The church was beautiful in the morning. Quackity had been there many times before, but never this early. Honey orange light shone through the colorful windows, dappling bright colors across the room. 

Quackity screwed his eyes shut for a moment and let his chest rise and fall with a deep, anxious breath. He opened them back up and found himself back next to the officiant. Techno stood off to the right, shooting Quackity a quick glance before turning back to the crowd of people. 

“You look good, Quackity.”

The hushed compliment caught him off guard. “Shut up, priest’s still talking,” Quackity whispered back. Techno curled his lip and rolled his eyes.

“Technoblade,” the priest said. Quackity tensed at hearing the others’ name, then snapped back into the speech, letting his shoulders relax a little. Oh right. They were getting married. “Will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to live together at God's ordinance in the holy state of Matrimony, as long as you both live?”

“I will,” Techno recited.

“And Quackity. Will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to live together at God's ordinance in the holy state of Matrimony, as long as you both live?”

A cloud of nervousness dripped like rain, pooling in his gut. “I-- I will.” 

The priest nodded, and Quackity let out a long sigh of relief. The priest took the two rings from the altar and handed them to Techno. Techno gingerly cupped one hand under Quackity’s palm, using his other to slide the little golden hoop onto Quackity’s fourth finger. The ring was artfully gilded, and ice cold where it kissed Quackity’s skin. A gap of space was left under his finger. Quackity slid the ring down as far as it could go, hoping that it wouldn’t fall off. 

Techno placed the other ring in his palm. His hands were huge, complexion sandy like a cliffside, rough and sunlicked.

The ring didn’t slide on as smoothly as Quackity had hoped. It was just barely too small, fitting snugly around Techno’s finger. Quackity tried to wrench it further back, but Techno yanked his hand away. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. Techno dropped his shoulders with a quick huff.

The priest was still droning on. “Bless these Rings, O merciful Lord, bless those that wear them to be faithful to one another, till death do they part. Amen.”

“Amen.” Quackity echoed. 

Then usual prayers were recited. The words rolled off of Quackity’s tongue with precision. He had practiced these same prayers for years now. Each word was etched into the back of his head, like a carving in wood. He’d seen those at the market before, little woodland creatures with words scribbled in the side. A foggy memory built up in the back of his mind. Sam had bought him one, a cat, for his birthday when he was very young. What really stuck with him was the unsaturated joy at receiving a gift for the first time.

A chorus of quiet ‘’amen’’s echoed off the walls as prayers finished.

Techno leaned forward and pecked Quackity on the lips. It was a tradition, meant to finalize their marriage. The kiss was a like match, scraping firewood in Quackity’s chest. Lighting sparks that burned up to his face. Techno, on the other hand, didn’t appear phased at all.

“Here ends the wedding ceremony,” the officiant finished. Some people stood up from their seats, lingering back for the reception.

Techno offered Quackity a short nod and took his trembling hand, helping him down off the altar. His heels clicked against the hardwood floor. A single bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face. 

Techno smirked. “Care to continue our dance?” 

Quackity punched Techno in the shoulder and let out a short laugh. “Oh fuck off.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !! :0 Sorry the for the short and kinda choppy first chapter, but it'll definitely pick up! Next chapter might take a little while to come out but I'll try my best <3


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